


Baby Mine

by CactusWithAGun



Series: The Undiagnosed Problems we Face as Fighters [1]
Category: Super Smash Brothers
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Eleven? Autistic Eleven!, Dialogue Heavy, Echolalia, Eleven has Echolalia, Eleven is Autistic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hero | Luminary is Named Eleven | El (Dragon Quest XI), Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I GOT SO MUCH FUCKING SERITONIN WRITING THIS YOU DON'T BELIEVE HOW HAPPY I AM WITH THIS ONE, Panic Attacks, Poor Eleven, Sleep, Sleep Paralysis, Stimming, for now!, hand holding, he is unaware though, kinda (?), sensitivity to touch, undiagnosed mental illness, y'all better read this I love how this came out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:56:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28396530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CactusWithAGun/pseuds/CactusWithAGun
Summary: Sleeping is supposed to be where someone is at the most peace. They dream sweetly and wake up feeling better than they ever had.Eleven sometimes has dreams, and this dream feels almost too real. Wait a minute, he’s awake isn’t he? Then why can’t hemove?
Relationships: Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI) & Everyone, Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI) & Solo (Dragon Quest IV)
Series: The Undiagnosed Problems we Face as Fighters [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079693
Kudos: 8





	Baby Mine

**Author's Note:**

> So like. I've been into SSBU since the game came out. I have so many freakin' stories i never finished, most about the Hero (Eleven mainly) because while I never played a single Dragon Quest game, they're just aesthetically some of my favorite additions to the Smash family.
> 
> This will be a series full of nothing but angst and fluff. Expect to see things (but don't get excited cause these may not even be finished) like:
> 
> \- falling through ice and nearly drowning in the cold water under because you lose the opening!
> 
> \- an umbra witch mom figure learning whatever the FUCK CPR is from the fucking ramen saleswoman because her memory WHACK (let's be honest, we all know bayo kinda coo-coo in reality but acts tough and shit)!
> 
> \- Ganondorf being a prick to children!
> 
> \- Sephiroth being the total opposite and being a softie to children!
> 
> \- and tons and TONS of undiagnosed illnesses!

He couldn’t move. He knew he was awake, wide awake, but he was frozen.

Had this been a dream? A false awakening? He used to have those a lot during his quests. But he just couldn’t get a grip on it.

He felt one thing; his chest was tight, like it had been crushed under a boulder. He tried to lift his arms to push whatever was on him off, but alas, his arms remained blissfully still.

He could hear voices ever so slightly. An ever-so-slightly nasally one, a deep one, and a young man’s voice. 

His friends; _The other Heroes_.

Eleven wanted to scream. He knew he wasn’t alone, but god, he felt so freaking alone with his thoughts. He tried to open his mouth. Like a phantom feeling, he felt his mouth open, but he knew too well it wasn’t. 

He couldn’t talk. He couldn’t scream. All he could do was listen.

He recalled hearing the voices saying something. He thought it might be about him because, wait, wasn’t he asleep? He had spent a whole day training with Cloud that he had gotten so tired and passed out in an uncomfortable position on his bed. And god, he could feel his back very vividly. He listened.

He heard someone, possibly the young man’s voice; Eight. It was Eight. He was laughing. He must have told a joke. Eleven loved jokes, he wanted to laugh with everyone, because he could tell that they were laughing. But he couldn’t laugh. He couldn’t even get a single chuckle out. In fact, he felt as if he couldn’t even breathe.

He tried. He tried so damn hard to let a breath overtake his lungs. He was trying so hard that he would practically strain his lungs if he was actually breathing. But as if he were meditating, his breath was still, and too calm. 

Eleven was rarely ever calm. He always had something on his mind and wanted to seek the world by his own pleasure. But ever since his journey, things got a bit out of hand, and he mostly stayed cooped up in the Smash World’s large enclosure to keep the fighters at peace. Either he was stressed because of something small, or pleased with the outcome of everything. And this was something small, right?

The young Hero felt his eye aflutter like bee wings, visibly and audibly buzzing with activity. Okay, so whatever’s going on, at least he can see. 

He looked to the side, but being a side sleeper on his back was crucially uncomfortable. He felt like he was rolling onto his side, but roll, he did not. He just lied perfectly still.

The muffled laughter of the boys overcame him with an enticing feeling, like he was floating on a cloud. Something soft under him, something pleasant around him. The laughter of the boys soothed him in this strange occurrence.

And then, it seized back to normal conversation. He heard something about Cloud, something along the lines of “Cloud is always wrapping his head around the fact that… something is something”. he couldn’t tell what exactly was being said, but he assumed it must have had something to do with the arrival of Sephiroth. 

His mind was in deep thought, but he attempted not to show too much fear, but alas, he was mortified that he could think, feeling his thoughts racing. He could even feel something pumping in his chest. Ah, that must be his heart! But it wasn’t as pleasant as that. He could almost hear his beating heart pulsation with palpitations. It felt painful. He wanted to hold his chest, but his arms couldn't reach; they couldn’t move. In fact, he couldn’t even feel them anymore.

Had Eleven gone completely numb to reality? Was he dead? Did he die in his sleep from straining himself at training? He was trying so hard to scream the names of his comrades: “Eight… Solo… Erdrick… Eight! Solo! Erdrick!”

But once again, nothing spewed out. Not even a particle of spit. 

Eleven tried to alert the boys that he was having a crisis, but when he was able to get even a glimpse of Solo at the bed across from him, everything on his body looked pale in color, almost like it was fading away. He really was dead, wasn’t he? Were his friends being taken away from him and he was left to cower in stillness? Was his stiffened body a sign of death even? And why was everything going black and white?

His vision settled to one specific thing, the base of the top bunk. He suddenly saw it breaking, and it began to collapse on top of him. He tried to scream; he could feel the weight on him taking him down. He tried, he tried, he tried.

And then he felt something on his hand. 

It wasn’t too hot, nor was it too cold. Just the right amount of warm on his palm. Was he bleeding? Did he get impaled and somehow couldn’t feel any pain? It went silent, but from the corner of his eye, he saw something, teal in color.

Hair. Solo’s hair.

He tried to reach out, and tried to scream his name, then–

“SOLO HELP!!”

He mustered out.

….

It startled everyone in the room. Eight was busy laughing at jokes he was telling Erdrick, who wasn’t amused, but that came to a halt. Eight and Erdrick didn’t even notice Solo by Eleven, and they were quite startled by the sudden scream.

Eleven felt a wave of terror seep into himself again, yet, he felt like the weight was gone. There was the top bunk, perfectly stilled on four strong wooden stalks. He could finally feel again, he could finally move again!

Tears seemed into his eyes with both fear and rejoice, he hadn’t felt this relieved in a long time. He felt so happy, yet so scared, that he started crying.

“Is he… is he good?” a dumbfounded Eight muttered.

“What’s his problem?” Erdrick murmured, “nightmare?”

“Give him a minute guys, let him get himself together.” Solo instructed the other two.

Eleven just sobbed. He sobbed until he realized he couldn’t stop sobbing. God, he was so fucking afraid. He hadn’t felt so powerless and fearful in so long.

“Deep breaths, baby bro,” came soothingly out of Solo’s voice, his slightly nasally, but pleasant and friendly voice sweetening the air around it like an incense. 

As happy as Hero was to see that he could move again, he was so overstimulated with a grab bag of emotions that he found himself breathing harder than he ever had. When you don’t breathe for so long, you begin to breathe so hard when you can that you forget that you’ll pass out if you do.

Eleven couldn’t even comprehend anyone’s voices anymore. He was so instilled with a crazed terror of whatever the hell just happened that he slipped into a frenzied panic attack. He just… couldn’t believe it. What the everliving fuck just happened to him?

Finally, he felt his hand become tightly squeezed between another; Solo’s hand. He knew it was still Solo, but the tears in his eyes altered the image of him, but he could see that while he was scarred with agony, Solo was collected with simple concern, holding onto his hand tightly. Eleven knew this grip; it was the “I am here” grip; the “do not be afraid” grip.

Solo’s grasp soothed him. Most people would try to hug him or hold him down, but he was extremely sensitive to touch and feelings. He wouldn’t even let close people hug him sometimes because the feeling reminded him of bad things. He loved hugs, sure, but was also very worried about being hugged too hard. Most people would put an arm around his shoulder or try to massage the stress away for him, but he just… couldn’t handle it. Certain touches just freaked him out.

Having something in his hand or hands is something, however, that soothed him. He always had to have something in his hand. Something soft, something gooey, something warm or something stiff. He didn’t even like using Krackle Slash because it was something very cold in his hands. He didn’t like the cold, but in this case, it was something warm. 

Solo’s thumb rubbed the palm of his hand, and he could feel a bad tingle when it did. As much as he loved the feeling of having something in his hands, sometimes if it brushed against his palm, it tingled. He pulled his hand away and held it, holding his hands together while having the meltdown and rocking back and forth.

“I’m sorry,” he made out, finally hearing Solo again, “I won’t do that again, I know you’re sensitive to that.”

Eight came up, clearly not assessing the situation very well, and tried to comfort Eleven his own way, putting his hand on Eleven’s shoulder.

He screamed, possibly waking anyone who may have been asleep.

Eight retaliated and backed up, “hey, I’m trying to comfort you! What’s the deal, lil’ bro?”

“He doesn’t like to be touched when he’s stressed! You know that!” Solo remarked, “why would you go and do that!?”

“Sorry, sorry! I forgot, okay!?” 

“Still, this is something you need to remember.”

“But– But you were holding his hand! Why didn’t he freak out to that?”

“Didn’t you just see him? I touched his hand wrong and he freaked out. I was squeezing it first to try and put the focus on something else. Worked for a hot minute, but my dumbass touched his palm wrong and he pulled his hand back,” finally, the focus went back to Eleven as he whimpered and moaned fearfully like a lost child, “you okay, baby boy?”

“I… I don’t know,” was all poor Eleven had the courage to say. 

“I saw you were having a sleep paralysis, is that true?”

“Wha–Wha’s that?”

“Well I got this gut feeling and– oh, well basically you’re awake but not? It’s like being awake and asleep at the same time. You know you’re awake, but you can’t move. I heard Lucas sometimes has that because of his anxiety keeping him up all night.”

“O...kay. Sss...sssooorr–”

“No, Eleven, no. No apologizing. It’s not your fault, aight? Take your time, baby bro.”

“I feel like I’m gonna… gonna… like I’m gonna pass out.”

“Olly, it’s alright, sweetheart. Deep, slow breaths, okay?”

Erdrick raised a confused, yet concerned brow, “who’s ‘Olly’?”

“It’s a nickname, he likes being called that, he told me. Or ‘Elly’. But apparently Olly’s a bit self conscious about his name? He doesn’t like being called Eleven sometimes unless he’s being formally addressed or if it’s someone he doesn’t know very well. Get it?” Solo explained.

“I guess.”

Eleven continued to rock; back and forth, then side to side, then in circles. He’d often rock in circles or lose his balance if he was dizzy or if he was going to pass out, and it was a good thing Solo had a good eye and a keen gut instinct, so he carefully kept his hands around the Hero in case he fell off the bed.

And promptly, he did, Solo catching the poor boy before he could hit his head and arms on the floor.

Instead of freaking out to the touch, however, he simply laid in Solo’s arms, looking up at Solo and giving off a warm, soothed expression without a smile. He seemed a lot better than he was before.

“So what’s the deal with him anyways?” Eight interrogated the teal haired seventeen year old Hero.

“He just needs some time. I hate to say this, but can you two leave for a moment? I think he just needs less people in the room. I can feel his heart beating on my knee from his back and I can tell that he’s still having a meltdown even though he seems calmer.

Erdrick and Eight looked at each other, but because they loved Eleven dearly like brothers as Solo did, they asked no questions and both simultaneously stated “alright,” Eight adding a little “take care” at the end.

….

Eleven may have seemed calmer now, but there was clearly still some distress interlaced inside him. He started to tap his finger together to help get his mind off the worry. He tapped each finger together one at a time, then again. Then looked up at Solo and moaned.

“It’s okay, baby boy. It’s just me now.” Solo smiled at him, causing the greyish-brown haired hero to mimic him. The sudden mirroring surprised Solo, but he knew he wasn’t mocking him, I mean, why would he? Right now especially! 

Mimicry was something that Eleven did a lot, but there was no explanation why. He would often repeat movements and words that may not even have any meaning, but he said he never meant to mock, it’s just that he always felt the urgent need, like a sneeze.

“Do you want me to brush your hair?” Solo asked him.

“Y-Yeah, that would be really nice, actually. Didn’t get a chance to brush it before and after training with Cloud today,” Eleven replied hesitantly.

Solo helped the boy sit up back on his bed again, then grabbed his special hairbrush and began to run the bristles through his hair, trying not to tug at it too much. For some reason, it never hurt the Hero when anyone brushed his hair, he actually really enjoyed the feeling. 

He didn’t say another word the entire time. Instead, the only noise in the room was Solo’s humming a familiar tune. It sounded like a waltz almost, yet seemed almost too pretty to even be a waltz. More like a ballet song.

When Solo had finally finished, Hero did something Solo could have never seen coming; he hugged Solo.

It was weird, because Hero always wanted a warning when he was being touched or would tell people he was going to be making contact to rep himself up, so to see his brotherly figure hugging him, to feel his brotherly figure hugging him, it felt almost dreamy.

“Thank you, Solo.” was all Eleven could muster up the courage to say.

“Aw, Olly! You don’t have to! I’ll always be there when you need me, got it?”

“Got it!” the Hero smiled a big, happy beam.

It was around that time that Eight and Erdrick appeared again, “is he okay now?” Erdrick started.

“He’s A-Okay, guys. Just had another meltdown after a sleep paralysis.” Solo told the incoming two,

“A sleep paralysis? Shit, he gets those?” Eight said, surprised.

“I don’t think he’s ever had one before based on the way he panicked. I’ve heard they can be scary. But he’s alright now. No need to worry.”

“Good,” Erdrick muttered, “I may not seem like it, but I’m glad he’s alright. He’s our baby bro.”

“We’re the same age, Arusu,” Eleven said hushingly.

“Suuuure.”

**Author's Note:**

> SERITONIN GO BRRRRRRRR AMIRIGHT BOYS???


End file.
